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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23213482">Waking Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurknomoar/pseuds/lurknomoar'>lurknomoar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bits and Pieces and Older Writings [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Discovery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Injury, M/M, Recovery, Short, post season two</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:13:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>696</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23213482</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurknomoar/pseuds/lurknomoar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul wakes up in sickbay.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bits and Pieces and Older Writings [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1467382</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Waking Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Paul wakes up in sickbay. There’s no pain, and for some reason that surprises him, he feels that there should be a lot of it. He got hurt, he remembers, he was transporting the new angel suit, they were going to the future – are they in the future?</p><p class="western">He raises his head and looks around. The eggshell-white lights of sickbay and the quiet beeping of its machines reveal nothing – they reveal that Paul is alive, and that the ship is in one piece, but nothing about the temporal whereabouts of the ship. He sees a white-clad figure bent over another bed, taking readings and looking at them with a frown. He has his back to Paul, but Paul can still tell that he’s frowning just from the line of his back, because it’s Hugh. Which means that seeing Hugh before just he passed out was real, it must have been real, unless this isn’t real either.</p><p class="western">He makes some sort of noise. He had probably meant to say hi, but it doesn’t really work out. Hugh hears it anyway, and walks over to him. He looks pleased, but also a little cautious. Guarded. It is very very good to see him.</p><p class="western">‘Hi,’ he says again, his voice cracking and weak, but at least intelligible.</p><p class="western">‘Hi, Paul,’ says his husband. ‘It’s good to have you back. How are you feeling?’</p><p class="western">‘Wonderful,’ whispers Paul, a bit overcome. Then he remembers that he’s in a sickbay, talking to a doctor, one who won’t hesitate to cut off his painkillers to get a straight answer about his current physical state, so he hurriedly continues. ‘Nauseous and dizzy, but vision mostly clear. No pain, but I don’t think I could stand yet.’</p><p class="western">‘You’re not even sitting up for another two days’ amends Hugh. ‘You lost an incredible amount of blood, and your left lung was, well, mashed. I’m glad Tilly got you to sickbay, I’m less glad that she made you walk here instead of getting a stretcher. I know, there was a battle going on for the future of all sentient life, but you still ended up with sharp little chipped bits of your own ribs in your spleen, somehow. Internal bleeding should have killed you.’</p><p class="western">Hugh turn his back for a second, and Paul almost believes he’s hiding tears before he thinks better of it. He just left to brings him some water. Paul makes a grabbing motion towards the cup, and watches in wonder as his hand lags seconds behind his intention to move.</p><p class="western">‘Stop moving,’ Hugh snaps. He lifts Paul’s head from the pillow with his left hand, and raises the cup to his lips with the right. The water is wonderfully cold and soothing, but it’s nothing compared to the firm, warm grip of Hugh’s hand on the back of his neck, the quiet concern in Hugh’s eyes watching him drink. After a few seconds, Hugh looks away, unable to hold his gaze, takes the empty cup away and turns to go. Maybe nothing changed, maybe his husband is still gone.</p><p class="western">‘Hugh,’ says Paul, knowing it won’t help, but too weak and sick not to call out.</p><p class="western">‘I’m here,’ says Hugh, very quiet, completely expressionless.</p><p class="western">‘Could you please...’ says Paul, not even quite sure what he’s asking for.</p><p class="western">‘I’m here,’ Paul repeats, turning back around. ‘I’m not who I was and I don’t know how to do this, but I am here. Do you see?’</p><p class="western">He looks exactly like himself, like who he has always been. But he does look lost. Paul nods.</p><p class="western">‘I’m here, and I’ll stay here, and I’ll find my way back to you, to us,’ Hugh says. ‘But it will take time. Will you wait for me?’</p><p class="western">Paul nods again, and blinks tears out of his eyes as Hugh’s face begans blur. No, he’s not crying, apparently it is time to pass out again.</p><p class="western">‘We should probably talk about…’</p><p class="western">‘We’ll have that conversation when we can. Right now, we’re 930 years in the future, the ship is safe but this world seems really quite broken and I’m not sure what the captain’s next step is, so for the moment...’</p><p class="western">Paul passes out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was supposed to be the beginning of a longer fic about Hugh and Paul trying to find their way back to their marriage, a fic what would have involved, among other things: Hugh being a perfectionist with identity issues, Paul slowly learning that he cannot hold on to the past for comfort, both of them realizing that their marriage will be saved by the little things that they don't know the other knows about them, like Hugh doesn't know that Paul knows he talks in his sleep, and doesn't simply talk, he works triage in his dreams, or like Paul doesn't know that Hugh knows he lies about the amount of energy drinks he puts away. A fic about that one time Hugh was the designated driver but was too embarrassed to be the only sober person at a party and pretended to get drunk on vodka oranges that were just plain orange juice, and that one single time Paul did actually see Hugh get drunk because apparently mixed drinks on Rigel are uncommonly strong, and about an opera about lovers who are not allowed to touch and so dance with one another holding two ends of a handkerchief that Hugh is pleasantly surprised that Paul remembers, about Hugh eating his food and it tasting wrong, and kissing his husband and feeling wrong, and slowly learning to be fine with that, about Hugh finally coming clean about the horrible, ugly feeling that poisons his love for his husband, that grateful as he is to be rescued, he resents Paul for living on, hates him for not coming to his rescue sooner, for saving him only by accident when he was trying to save Tilly, and he knows it's not fair, he knows it's not logical but he can't help feeling it. But after he says it, and Paul stares back at him, stricken but understanding, he feels better.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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